


Even Dragons have their Ending

by lostinhellfire



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, BOFA AU, Everybody Lives, Faked Suicide, M/M, Rating May Change, Soulmates, dragonsickness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinhellfire/pseuds/lostinhellfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin's sickness grows worse by the hour and the company sees only one way out: they have to shock Thorin out of the goldsickness by faking the death of one of his closest companions - Bilbo.<br/>What they didn't know is that Bilbo was Thorin's soulmate and his 'death' causes a lot of grief, angst, confusion and guilt.<br/>Will everything resolve itself before Thorin declares himself mad?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not all those who wander are lost

**Author's Note:**

> this is a combined kink-meme-fill for these prompts (with slight alterations):
> 
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=25564674#t25564674  
> So Thorin is deep, deep in his dragon-sickness and nothing can break him out of it. Or not? Bilbo tells the rest of the company about Thorin's moment of clarity when Bilbo showed him the acorn and the company noticed that Bilbo is the only one left whom Thorin trusts.  
> They agree that it would need an immense emotional shock to free Thorin from his sickness, so they fake Bilbo's death.  
> It works. The sickness is blown away, Thorin never starts a war with the men and elves everything is alright. (The orcs never attack erebor... for some reason.)  
> Except not.  
> Nobody knew that Bilbo was Thorin's One and Bilbo's supposed death is causing Thorin to slowly fade away.  
> Once the dwarves realize what they've done, they immediately go after Bilbo, But he is already halfway to the shire.  
> Bonus:  
> -dwarves are supposed to feel when their One dies, Thorin didn't (of course) and is guilt tripping, because he thinks he was so deep in his sickness, he possibly failed to save his One  
> -at night Thorin is crying to himself and begging Bilbo to come back to him. his instincts are telling him that his one is not dead, but he always has to crush that spark of hope and remind himself that Bilbo will never come back to him  
> -this is what alerts the other dwarves about thorin's state  
> -very much angst but happy ending?
> 
> and this: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=25564930#t25564930  
> (inspired by the prompt above about dwarves noticing it when their soulmates die)  
> So dwarves only start seeing colours after they met their soulmate.  
> Thorin and Bilbo had this, finally confessed their feelings for each other and are happily together.  
> One day Bilbo is doing some snooping which requires him to put on his magic invisibility ring.  
> What he doesn't know: once he puts on the ring he is in some kind of state between life and death.  
> So at the same moment Bilbo puts his ring on, Thorin's world returns to black and white.  
> Imagine his panic and horror.
> 
> Also the rating miiight change.

The mithril was inexplicably light and didn't restrict his movement at all, but still it felt as if Bilbo was carrying the weight of actual armour on his shoulders.

Thorin had seemed so sane and happy when Bilbo had shown him the little acorn he had taken from Beorn's garden. So sane, that Bilbo had almost told him about the jewel hidden in one of his pockets, even though Balin had indirectly advised him against it not long before.

Now the thought of how that could have turned out made Bilbo shudder.

He remembered the way Thorin's expression had darkened upon hearing of the Laketown refugees and he could only imagine how the king would have reacted to Bilbo's betrayal.

Nevertheless it was fairly obvious and also sheer dumb luck that Thorin hadn't accused him of anything yet.

Even stranger, he had given him a shirt of mithril, perfect for his size and still allowing him to be light on his feet.

_A token of our friendship_ he had said, again smiling in that healthy and sane way and Bilbo just mused how he had luckily hidden the Arkenstone in his bedroll before he came to the weaponry, before Thorin grabbed Bilbo and pulled him into a dimly lit alcove.

_I have been blind_ he said, going on about a thief and being betrayed and Bilbo felt his heart drop and thought about how he was going to find out how Thorin dealt with traitors, when he heard him say _One of them has stolen the Arkenstone. One of them is false._

Bilbo had never thought he would be able to feel relief and dread at once.

He calmly tried to talk sense into the dwarf, talking about how taking the mountain back was enough and talking about honour, only to almost suffer whiplash from how violently Thorin's tone switched between reassuring him and snarling in distrust about the rest of the company.

Bilbo's heart stopped when Thorin said the all familiar words, Eru, he even _hissed_ while declaring he wouldn't part with a single coin.

He saw the dragon before him, saying the exact same thing, using the exact same _voice._

His shaky sigh echoed in the empty chamber as he tried to decide how he could possibly help Thorin overcome this accursed dragon-sickness.

He sat in the abandoned chamber for hours before he was ready to admit to himself that the whole ordeal had grown over his head.

He went searching for Balin and found him at the same dusty shelves as before.

The old dwarf let his eyes wander over the hobbit and gazed at the mithril with an unreadable expression.

"A token of Thorin's friendship", murmured Bilbo, feeling the sudden urge to explain himself.

Balin only raised one eyebrow, which irritated Bilbo even more.

"Look, I came here to ask for your help."

Balin's expression darkened and he whispered: "I already told you, it would be best if the Arkenstone just stayed-"

"Yes, yes, I _know_ what you implied, thank you very much, but I really don't think that this is the right way to help Thorin!"

Balin frowned. "What do you mean, Master Baggins, do you intend to just give the Arkenstone to Thorin and hope it somehow cures his sickness?"

"Dear Lord no!", Bilbo squeaked, "The way he is now he would probably throw me off the ramparts if I told him I have had the Arkenstone all this time. Look, I have no idea what to do, that's why I came here in the first place. I understand that the Arkenstone would make Thorin even worse, but I don't think you understand how bad it already is."

He told Balin about Thorin's suspicions and about the striking similarities to a certain dead dragon and watched the old dwarf's face fill with dread.

"I- I didn't expect him to deteriorate this quickly. Wait here, I'll fetch the dwarves we can trust to keep a secret and we will form a plan. Just wait here until I come back!"

 

\---

 

Bilbo varied between sitting down on one of the dusty chairs and pacing up and down, not being able to settle down properly.

Balin should have been back ages ago, maybe something had happened. Maybe Thorin had found out- but that was ridiculous.

He had just swiped the dust off yet another chair and sat himself down, when Balin shuffled back into the chamber, followed by Bofur, Bombur, Oin and Dori.

"Where is Dwalin?" Bilbo had expected the burly warrior to be the first one Balin would confide in, but he shook his head.

"My brother is fiercely loyal and would strongly oppose against everything that remotely feels like 'betraying' Thorin, even if it was in fact the best for everyone."

Oin nodded solemnly as if to say _My bother is the same._

Balin repeated Bilbo's story and explained how Bilbo had come to him before, asking if it would be sensible to give the Arkenstone he had found to Thorin.

Dori stared at Bilbo "You have found the Arkenstone?"

Bilbo gulped and nodded slowly, fearing the news wouldn't be received well, but all the dwarves did was look at him in astonishment.

"And you still had the courage to stand this close to the king? My, some burglar you are!", chuckled Bofur, Bombur and Dori joining him.

Balin cleared his throat and send them a serious glare. "Thorin's sickness is getting worse far quicker than I would have expected. Bilbo and I agree, that just giving the Arkenstone to him would be a very bad course of action and would only worsen his state. We have to find a way to get rid of the dragon-sickness and we have to find it quickly."

"Well, just talking it out of him won't work. If he's indeed already gone that far, we have to break him out of it.", hummed Dori, stroking his braided beard.

"Aye, and it would take an awfully big shock to accomplish that." nodded Bofur.

No one said anything for a while, before Oin harrumphed and slowly started elaborating: "Well, the Thorin we know and admire lives for his people. He cares for his companions first."

Bofur's face lightened up in understanding. "It would be an awfully big shock to lose one of them."

Oin nodded solemnly.

"Wait, you mean to kill a member of the company?! Have you lost your mind?!", Bilbo tried very hard to keep his voice down, despite feeling disgusted with the mere notion of sacrificing a friend.

"No, no, no, Master Baggins. I think what Oin here meant was that Thorin has to _believe_ one of his closest companions has died, we won't actually kill anyone."

"Oh, that's a relief. Not that I actually thought you would be capable of... such a thing."

"Too kind, Master Baggins. Now, this person would obviously have to be let in on our plan and he has to have Thorin's best interest in mind. He also has to be very close to Thorin, to guarantee the emotional response would actually be enough to conquer the dragon-sickness. I think we all know, who I am talking about."

Bilbo shuddered at Balin's callousness. He understood the urgency and Balin's reasoning, but couldn't quite keep up with them in the end.

"And who exactly would that be?"

 

\---

 

It made perfect sense. It had to be him.

He had been surprised that the dwarves deemed him important enough to Thorin to actually consider him, but their reasoning made sense to him.

He was the only one Thorin trusted during his sickness. He was not part of the royal line and wouldn't affect the succession to the throne. He also wasn't an advisor and didn't hold a position Thorin really depended on. And he was also the only one who could actually return to a home, despite faking his death.

It was perfect.

So why was the mere thought of it so painful?

Bilbo had come to the conclusion that his feelings for Thorin weren't merely platonic a while ago.

Gaining Thorin's trust, seeing him offer his rare smiles and his increasing physical affection had led to Bilbo feeling almost pleased that he was the only one able to lure a bit of the old Thorin out of the dragon.

How perfectly logical to make him the one to finally get rid of the dragon, once and for all.

They had agreed that Bilbo would fake his suicide, naming guilt over having stolen the Arkenstone and homesickness as reasons.

Bilbo had vehemently protested against making Thorin one of the reasons for his faked suicide, but Balin insisted. He argued that Thorin had to feel guilt before he would be able to see reason and think about his actions.

They also proposed that Bilbo should write a suicide letter, explaining his reasons and making everything more believable.

Bilbo could feel how betraying their king hurt them and tried to soothe his conscience by telling himself time and time again that they were indeed helping Thorin, no matter how wrong it felt.

He then asked the other conspirators to leave him while he tried to come up with his suicide letter.

It took him longer than it should have and he poured his very heart and soul into it, leaving him feeling drained and his face wet.

He chuckled mirthlessly. This really wasn't the way he had intended to confess his feelings to Thorin, but this wasn't about him anymore. He was just the catalyst. Just a means to an end.

He hid his face inside his hands and tried to suppress his sobs.

He somehow managed to pull himself together and exited the chamber, the other dwarves already waiting for him with sympathetic expressions on their faces.

Bilbo sniffed and held the letter towards Balin, but didn't let go of it until Balin's sad eyes met his.

"Promise me, that no one except Thorin will read this."

"I promise."

"Good. And I want to see him one last time."

He had expected them to protest and doubt his ability to keep quiet about their plan, but the only nodded understandingly.

"Come find me at the library when you... When you're finished.", he laid a comforting hand on Bilbo's shoulder before he let him say his goodbyes.

 

\---

 

Bilbo had washed his face with ice-cold water, hoping it would erase the traces of tears.

He evaded the other members of the company. He wasn't sure he could bear the sight of Fili or Kili without bursting into tears all over again.

He slowly crept into the throne room, scanning the room for Dwalin's hulking presence, but the only person in the room was Thorin, standing in front of the damaged throne with the missing jewel.

Bilbo automatically patted his pockets, despite having given the Arkenstone to Balin already.

He took a deep breath and walked up to Thorin, who turned with a thunderous expression, which immediately softened upon realising who had come to visit him.

"Master Baggins, come closer."

Bilbo approached varily, half expecting Thorin to once again tell him about how he suspected his comrades of treason.

But Thorin turned back towards the throne and when he started talking it was in a conversational and light tone. "I was thinking of filling the gaps with something." he said, pointing at the deep scratches Smaug's claws had left. "I am not sure what material to use, though. I thought about using the same stone, but the cracks would still be visible and it would look like a poor attempt to hide what has happened here. What do you think, Master Burglar."

Bilbo flinched at the title, knowing all to well how fitting it was. He thought about it for a moment. "You could use a metal in between, as an adhesive of sorts. I imagine it would look beautiful."

Thorin nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes. Veins of precious metal, silver, _gold..._ "

A rapt smile twisted over his face and Bilbo's insides clenched and once again he felt tears filling his eyes.

He tried wiping them away before Thorin would notice, but the dwarf caught his movement out of the corner of his eye.

He looked at the hobbit with a very worried expression.

"What ails you, Master Burglar?" His tone was considerate, but the words weren't his. They sounded ancient and Bilbo knew exactly which ancient being was still holding his influence over Thorin.

The thought of Smaug made Bilbo sober up and he merely shook his head. "It's nothing, really."

Thorin nodded, as if he understood exactly what Bilbo had left unsaid.

"I will find out which of them has stolen the Arkenstone and then the others will swear their loyalty to me once again. I do not know yet, if I can ever trust them again like I once did, but it matters not once we have the Arkenstone back in our possession. Everything will turn to the better in the end, I promise you, Bilbo."

Bilbo couldn't decide what was more terrible; Thorin's aversion against his own people or his unshaken faith and trust in Bilbo, which was about to be shattered completely.

He clenched his fists and felt his nails dig into his palms as he forced a weak smile on his lips.

He hoped that Thorin would interpret it as nervousness instead of heartbreak.

"I hope it does.", he breathed and it was the most painful thing in  the world to turn away, to avert his eyes and walk to his faked death.

 

\---

 

In the very early hours of the next morning Balin said his goodbyes to the burglar.

He had given him a sack full of coin and supplies and had insisted on giving Bilbo the share of his treasure, but the hobbit refused.

He said that hobbits didn't have much use for gold and riches and said that the experiences he had gained were the true treasure, obviously not even convincing himself with his poetic words.

The hobbit opened and closed his mouth a few times, before stuttering: "A-about Thorin..."

Balin cut him off with a soft gesture. "It's quite alright laddie. I know."

Bilbo clenched his teeth and nodded.

"I cannot thank you enough for what you are about to do. I know it is painful for you and I am truly sorry that we could find no other way."

Bilbo's eyes mistened and he grinned crookedly. "Just see that my death isn't in vain."

Then he turned and left.

 

\---

 

It wasn't all that hard to work up the necessary emotions for what he was about to tell Thorin, as he had quite literally lost Bilbo for ever. Just not in the way he would make Thorin believe.

It was still barely after dawn but he assumed he had given Bilbo enough time to leave the lonely mountain behind.

He hurried down the treasury, to where he knew Thorin would be if he wasn't bellowing at his companions to find the Arkenstone.

Thorin looked awful and Balin doubted he had been sleeping at all for the last few days.

He took a deep breath and stepped closer to his king, who didn't seem to notice his presence.

He took another, shaky breath and he didn't even have to fake the despair in his voice: "Thorin."

The king finally turned and his frown deepened even further upon seeing Balin's expression.

"What is it. Is it about the Arkenstone?"

Balin felt the tears already accumulating behind his eyes. "It's Bilbo."

Thorin's frown lifted off his face and he looked concerned instead. "What is wrong with Bilbo?"

Even more tears were welling up and Balin found that he had lost his voice.

"Answer me!", Thorin bellowed, angry frown on his face once again.

Balin wiped his face and looked Thorin straight in the eyes. "He is dead, Thorin."

He saw his king's face shut down in confusion, the eyebrows lifting in surprise and confusion.

"What do you mean."

"He is dead, Thorin. He- He jumped from the watchtower."

"That cannot be true. Why are you lying to me?"

"I am not. I saw it with my own eyes."

"You have grown old and you are imagining things!"

"Thorin!"

Thorin stopped snarling at Balin and aimed his glare at Bofur, who was slowly inching closer, his hat in his hands.

"I saw it, too, Thorin. He isn't lying. Bilbo is- Bilbo..."

"He is dead Thorin."

Something that had apparently kept Thorin upright through those last days seemed to snap and Thorin bend forward, stumbling against one of the pillars.

"No, no, no. That is not possible. It is just not possible. Why would he... No, he isn't dead."

Balin grew nervous at the sight of Thorin mumbling and murmuring seemingly sinking into himself further and further.

The steely blue eyes snapped up and bored into Balin's. "He survived. We must find him immediately."

Balin sighed raggedly. "Thorin, the watchtower is up on the steepest cliff on the eastern side of the mountain. I am so sorry, but he couldn't have survived it."

"THEN YOU WILL BRING ME WHAT REMAINS OF HIM!"

Balin flinched, but didn't move.

Thorin glared at him and spat: "What is it?"

"Bilbo had something with him before he jumped. He put it on the balustrade and told me to give it to you before he... fell."

He reached into his pockets and pulled out Bilbo's letter with his left and the Arkenstone with his right hand.

Thorin froze and stared at Balin's hands. The old dwarf didn't even dare to breathe.

Without a word Thorin crossed the distance between them and grabbed the jewel.

Balin's heart stopped. Had their whole ruse been in vain? Was Thorin only going to care about the Arkenstone?

He was about to thank the valar that Bilbo had already left and wasn't going to feel Thorin's wrath, when Thorin hurled the Arkenstone over the nearest hill of treasure. He turned back to Balin and snatched the letter from his hands.

"Wake everyone. They are all going to search the mountainside for out burglar. Go now!", he ordered in a pressed voice, his eyes never lifting from the envelope.

Bofur and Balin hurried away, still shocked about Thorin's reaction to the Arkenstone.

 

\---

 

Bilbo had arrived in Dale and was hiding behind a large pile of rubble. He intended to wait for Gandalf's arrival, give the wizard a piece of his mind and have him accompany him home to his books and armchair.

He was starting to shiver and considered opening his pack to maybe eat something, when he heard agitated voices.

"That's the dwarves! They're coming out of the mountain!"

Bilbo froze in shock. Had Thorin found out about their act? Did he know, where he was?

He slowly crept from behind his hidingplace and scurried around the wall, so that he could have a better look at the mountain.

There were indeed dwarves outside of the mountain, but they weren't headed in the direction of Dale.

Instead they seemed to make their way around the base of the mountain, searching ffor something.

But before he could wonder what in Eru's name they were actually doing, he heard a voice behind him whisper: "Well if it isn't the little hobbit...."

 

\---

 

Dwarven love is a truly rare and precious thing. All over Middle-Earth the dwarven race was stereotyped as cold, stoic, emotionless and greedy, but it really couldn't be further from the truth. Dwarves cherished their loved ones and the ones close to them above all the riches in the world. They loved fiercely, intensely and only once in their lives.

To help them find their way to love, Mahal had given them a crystal clear indicator.

Dwarves only learned to see colours after they have met their soulmate.

They are already able to discern between rough shades and hues before that, but after facing their soulmate and after looking into their eyes their world turns so much richer in colour.

When Thorin had first laid eyes on Bilbo, the world around him had exploded in warm brown-tones and cosy shades of red and green and yellow.

He had been stunned for a second. Before attempting what he thought was smooth talking.

Obviously the hobbit didn't respond all that well and Thorin remembered, that other races didn't have this handy, inbuilt clue.

He started doubting his soulmate, actually refusing to believe that he was indeed the one intended for him. He went even so far as to tell Bilbo that he should have better stayed at home.

But Bilbo's return and the fact that he had courageously saved his life, made him reconsider.

They grew closer and Thorin understood why Mahal had chosen this fussy, brave and loyal little creature for him.

Bilbo made him feel calm, he strengthened his confidence.

He was tempted to just confess his feelings to Bilbo quite a few times, most notably the night in laketown, after Bilbo had vouched for him in front of the master of Laketown and all it's citizens.

But he decided to wait for the moment when they had reclaimed the mountain, when he was once again in possession of the Arkenstone, crowned king and finally a worthy contender for Bilbo's affection.

But this day would never come. He looked down at the letter. He could see where Bilbo's tears had left puddles before drying up. He could see how shaky Bilbo's hand must have been.

His free hand clawed into his own chest, desperately trying to relieve the terrible ache inside

_I'm so sorry, Bilbo. I'm so sorry, azyungal._

_When you come back to me, I will make it up to you. Or I will let you leave, whatever you want. But please, return one last time, please, ghivashel, please..._

He _knew_ Bilbo was alive.

When a dwarf's soulmate dies, all the colour fades and leaves only black and white.

The colours were as vibrant as ever.

Bilbo was alive. _He survived, he survived._

Thorin was just about to follow his companions outside, to see if they had found Bilbo yet, when the colour left.

It was accompanied by a sword through the heart. Or that is at least what it felt like to Thorin.

He let out a desperate roar of pain and fell unconscious.


	2. Deep Roots are not reached by the Frost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter, some grief, some negotiating and an awakening.

_My dearest Thorin, or Your Majesty, however you prefer me to call you now._

_By now you must have already learned of my betrayal, so I do not know if you even wish to hear my final words to you, but I beg you to give me a chance to explain._

_The guilt over having stolen your precious gem is still eating away at me, just as the homesickness I feel whenever I think of my Bag End. It burns that I will never return there._

_But Thorin, I want you to understand that, of all the things that have burdened me these past days, seeing you and your descent into madness was the one that I was unable to live through._

_~~It is very strange o think about you reading this while I am already no longer of this world.~~ _

_It is hard to find the right words, please forgive me for my lack of eloquence._

_To know my motives, you must also know about my deepest, most guarded secret. I loved you, Thorin, from the bottom of my heart, I swear I did and I am so sorry you have to learn about it like this._

_I do not know if you even care and that is what frightens me the most. You knowing about my feelings, my motivations and not even caring. It is because of this very likely possibility that I have left you. I just wouldn't be able to survive your wrath, or worse, your indifference, so I won't._

_Please understand that I did not take this step lightly and I beg the part of you that is still able to forgive, to forgive me for this. This ultimate, last betrayal._

_I do not know, if you hate me now; I will never know and that gives me strange serenity._

_Even if you do not find it in yourself to forgive me or if you don't understand my reasoning, please believe this one thing: I really did love you. As much as any Hobbit can love. But I came to reclaim the mountain from a dragon, not to watch it be handed over to another monster._

_Maybe my choice will make you see reason._

_I wish you nothing but the kindest things. I wish you easy negotiations with the elves. I wish you a thousand and another thousand years of peace. I wish you to be able to see the royal line continued in you nephews. I wish you will be able to find someone you love just as much as I loved you. Above all I wish you to break free of this thrice accursed dragon-sickness. You are not your grandfather, Thorin, so don't become like him._

_I will forever love you,_

_Bilbo Baggins_

_Master Burglar_

\---

 

It had been only three days since his world turned to grey, but it felt like a century.

It was Dwalin who had found him passed out after having scouted the entire mountainside for their lost Hobbit. With no luck.

Thorin knew now that his Hobbit had not survived the fall and his lifeless body must have been carried away by the wind... or wild animals. He shuddered violently at the thought.

Judging by his company's expressions he must look as awful as he felt. He scoffed mirthlessly. As if that was even possible.

He had read the suicide-letter over and over, cursing himself time and time again, trying to swallow his guilty sobs, because he knew that members of the company were keeping watch outside of his chambers. But, to be honest, he didn't even care if they saw him at his most vulnerable anymore.

They had been forced to watch him through insanity, nothing would be able to damage their judgement of him any more than that had already.

The thought of his actions, thoughts and behaviour had made him sick more than once during these past three days.

_You are not your grandfather, so don't become like him._

Oh, my sweet love, you were always able to see right through me. So why didn't you stay to see me through this darkest chapter of my life?

_You know exactly why, Thorin. You know why he left you. He saw your true nature and it disgusted him, so he left you to live alone through this misery. You scared him away._

He winced at these thoughts, but he knew the cruel voice in his head was just telling the truth.

It was his fault that Bilbo had committed suicide, he had basically told him so in his last words.

He had been so afraid of him, that he had doubted his very death would be enough to shake him and Thorin _hated_ himself for taking away his Hobbit's never failing hope.

He hadn't been able to leave his chambers ever since Dwalin had brought him there.

Seeing the concerned and wary expressions of the few dwarves that actually came to visit him was painful enough.

He scrunched up his face in disgust and loathed himself for his cowardice.

 

\---

 

Balin was torn between feeling relief over succeeding and deep sadness over watching Thorin plummet into his endless grief.

His brother had found their king collapsed and babbling 'He's dead, oh Mahal, he's truly gone' over and over.

After bringing him to his rooms, they had to watch their king breaking down completely, apparently finally seeing the truth in Balin's account.

They had been right to choose Bilbo for this, he thought as he entered Thorin's chambers and watched him hastily shove a piece of paper, which Balin identified as Bilbo's suicide letter, under a pile of books on his desk. Not for the first time he wondered what Bilbo had written in his letter. He had a vague idea and that would probably be the closest to ever finding out what it actually said, because he highly doubted Thorin would ever let anyone have a look at it.

His king looked very guilty and tried to pretend he had been reading one of the books.

Balin sighed. At least he was sitting upright, a positive development compared to the day before when Thorin had been either lying in his bed or pacing his chambers restlessly, unaware of anyone entering to see how he was faring.

Balin cleared his throat and Thorin acted as if he had only noticed him now.

"Yes, what is it?"

Balin could see right through his mask of professionalism, but decided to humour him.

"Your Majesty, the Men and Elves are still waiting for your answer. I have managed to put them off by telling them of our grievous loss, but they aren't exactly the most patient of people, these Men."

It was unsettling to see Thorin flinch at the title again. Balin reminded himself to not call Thorin 'you Majesty' anymore. He had been very careful to keep anything concerning the siege outside their door away from Thorin for the past days, not knowing if it was wise to force him to deliver an important political judgement in his current state.

That had obviously been a wise decision and Thorin's expression made him almost regret having brought this concern to him already, but there was really no time. Thranduil and Bard had given him a three days reprieve before they would take action and those three days were almost over.

 

\---

 

He was struck by shock and embarrassment in very short succession.

Shock over realising that he was, in fact, king now and had kingly duties to fulfil and embarrassment over forgetting this and the shameful way he had conducted this king business during his sickness and now his grief.

What a splendid figure he was making as king under the mountain.

He swallowed and hoped that his nervousness wasn't all too obvious.

"Ah, yes. The reparations for Laketown and the Lasgalen jewels. Tell them-"

He was just about to tell Balin to relay his rejection to them when he remembered Bilbo's words.

_You are not your grandfather, so don't become like him._

He fell silent and stared at the stack of books under which these words were currently hidden.

He felt Balin's unease and impatience, so he cleared his throat and continued his order.

"Tell them that we will meet them for negotiations and that we are willing to make concessions."

He barely heard Balin's "yes of course" full of joyous surprise and didn't even look up to see him rush out of his chambers.

Instead he pulled out the folded paper and asked "Are you satisfied now? Is this what you wanted?", only to chide himself for expecting some sort of answer.

 

\---

 

When Bard had heard of the Hobbit's death he had been shocked and felt disheartened.

In the very short time of knowing the Halfling he had learned him to be quite reasonable and one of the few people to be able to change Thorin's mood.

He had secretly put his trust in Bilbo to be the one to make the king see reason, so he watched his last hopes die with him.

He was indeed quite shocked when the very old, white-haired dwarf; was it Balin or Dwalin?; came to his tent not hours before the respite they had given them would have expired and brought a message of peace and reconciliation with him.

The King under the Mountain was in fact willing to negotiate with them. Talk about small wonders.

He felt a heavy burden being lifted off his shoulders and Balin's expression told him that the dwarf was just as relieved as he was.

"I will inform King Thranduil immediately. When will the King come to meet us? I expect the discussions will be held outside of the mountain?"

Balin nodded, obviously grateful he didn't have to come up with an excuse why they wouldn't be able to meet within the mountain without insulting him.

 

\---

 

The negotiations were finished quite quickly and if someone had told that to Bard before he would have assumed that something must have gone incredibly wrong.

But his assumptions were proven false for the second time within 24 hours.

In under five hours he, King Thranduil, King Thorin and their respective advisors had been able to place a contract that promised the former people of Laketown funding to rebuild the city of Dale and shelter during the oncoming winter and ensured the return of precious gems to Mirkwood in return for food and resources until Erebor and Dale were fully restored and a trade agreement for the future to come.

The best possible outcome had come true and Bard had to resist the urge to pinch himself more than once.

There was almost nothing left to remind him of the mistrustful and hostile monarch he had been trying to talk sense into mere days before.

He was too elated about this very positive turn of events to notice anything strange about Thorin's behaviour, the way his hand kept straying to his chest-pocket or how alertly his advisor kept watching him.

 

\---

 

He woke to a dull ache centred at his nape. He must have slept very awkwardly, it didn't feel like the tense muscles he was used to by now.

He raised his hand to massage the back of his neck, but it didn't seem to relieve the twinge.

Also his bedroll felt much harder than usual.

He decided that it was time to get up before he'd lie himself completely sore.

He opened his eyes and saw only fog. He blinked a few times, but the fog wouldn't clear up.

He sat up slowly and tried to get rid of his clouded vision by shaking his head or rubbing his eyes, but nothing seemed to help.

Upon closer inspection he realised that he wasn't even inside the mountain, but somewhere surrounded by ruins and rubble.

What on earth had happened to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter than the first chapter, but I didn't want to make you wate any longer and I also couldn't find a better place to make the chapter cut, sorry :/  
> AAAnyways, here it is: Bilbo's suicide letter! But whatever might have happened to the Hobbit himself? What suspense :DD  
> You might also notice that I have borrowed some actual quotes from the movie/book which otherwise wouldn't have happened, cause this is an AU, duh.


	3. A Light from the Shadows shall spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin acts on his grief, people are worried about it.  
> Bilbo tries to make sense of his predicament.

Bifur had, like all the other dwarves, heard about what had happened to Bilbo. He had been scaling the side of the mountain with his companions, searching for the hobbit's body.

When Thorin approached him, he nodded in sympathy.

He had seen how hard their king had taken the loss of their burglar and could sympathise, having felt the sharp agony of losing one's soulmate himself.

He wasn't sure if the other dwarves had noticed the changes in Thorin; the first when he met the Hobbit and the second when he lost him; but he would preserve his privacy. He doubted his companions would even listen to him if he suggested that possibility to them. After all he was just the crazy dwarf with the axe in the head.

Thorin came to him about five days after Bilbo's death and Bifur gasped in shock when he pulled the Arkenstone from one of his pockets.

Bofur had told him that Thorin had thrown the jewel away as a reaction to Bilbo's suicide. He must have recovered it, then.

Thorin looked at him with eyes full of grief, fatigue but also determination.

"I know that, out of the company, you are the most capable when it comes to working with gems, right?"

This wasn't the time for false modesty, so Bifur signed a simple 'Yes'.

"Good. Then I have a request for you."

 

\---

 

Bilbo had been wandering in the grey mist for days by now.

Three, to be exact, but he had no clue how long he had been unconscious before that.

He remembered a threatening voice, putting on the ring, turning invisible and then the dull impact on the back of his neck.

He knew that the fog and the general blurriness of his surroundings were side-effects of wearing the ring.

What he didn't understand was why he couldn't take the ring _off._

In the beginning he was too distressed by his disorientation and the, well, nonexistence of his own body, but by now he was able to tone the haziness and the constant _whooshing_ down a bit and he could actually see where exactly he was.

Which also meant that he was able to see his own body lying on the ground.

Bilbo had to sit down for a moment, which is a bit difficult when you don't actually have a body.

He tried touching his body, thinking that he might be able to reconnect himself to it that way, but he just went straight through it, which sent an unpleasant shiver through him.

He decided that taking a hit to the nape by Eru knows whom while wearing the ring had gotten his consciousness stuck in the ghostly world of the ring.

He had to find someone who could put his mind back into his body, preferably a wizard, but that would mean leaving his body alone and unprotected.

And he wasn't even sure if he would be able to communicate with anyone in this state and also there was someone running around, punching hobbits in the neck!

He moaned in exasperation and dropped his face into his hands.

He found himself wondering if at least their plan to heal Thorin had worked...

 

\---

 

Fili had been very busy these last few days.

A week had gone by since their burglar's tragic suicide, but the time for grieving had been mercilessly cut short by the literal mountain of work before them.

As Thorin's direct heir he was in charge of solving any issues regarding the Laketown refugees. That included bringing them all into the mountain as a first thing. The dwarves would grant the men asylum until Dale was habitable again. Which meant that they would be staying until the start of spring at the very least, as there was absolutely no way of rebuilding the town during the harsh winter that was to come.

Once he had let them into Erebor's grand hall, he instructed the Ri brothers to make a list of all undamaged homes inside the mountain. He had initially wanted to include the Ur brothers, too, but Bombur was in charge of keeping people from starving to death, Bofur was with Gloin and Kili trying to get the ancient furnaces to work so they wouldn't freeze to death and Mahal knows where Bifur was.

Luckily, an entire delegation of Mirkwood elves, including that redheaded one, had stayed behind to help them and were actually pretty useful!

It was very strange of King Thranduil to order his own people to support dwarves, but they _were_ getting paid for it after all.

Thranduil had probably been as stunned as Fili to hear of Thorin's willingness to sign a treaty with him, if not more so.

Fili stopped studying the maps of Erebor and mused about how deeply his uncle had been affected by Bilbo's death.

It was only logical. They _had_ become very close friends during the quest and Thorin had already lost so much of his companions during his lifetime.

He hadn't had much spare time during that last week, but he had spend his every spare moment racking his brain on the possible reasons for Bilbo's suicide.

Clearly noone, least of all Thorin, had expected it.

He knew there had been a suicide letter, but it had solely been addressed to Thorin and so far Thorin was the only one to have actually read it and Fili would dearly refrain from asking him what Bilbo's last words to him were.

He hadn't seen much of his uncle, or any of the company besides the Ri Brothers, but the short glimpses he was able to catch made him worry.

It was quite obvious that the dragon-sickness had been broken, but there was something else, most likely the burglar's death, burdening the king's spirit.

His contemplations were rudely interrupted by the unmistakeable figure of his brother parting the crowd with his swinging arms as he ran towards him.

"Kili? What in the name of Mahal's hammer has gotten into you? Shouldn't you be down in the forges?"

"I was. Then I went to the throne room to report our progress to uncle and- have you been to the throne room lately?!"

Fili frowned at his panting brother: "Well, no. Not since...You know."

"Me neither, but now I've been there. He's gone mad Fili. He's completely out of it! He's- He-...Oh, curse it all, it's best you see it for yourself!"

He grabbed Fili's hand and pulled him towards the stairs.

"What are you talking about? Who has gone mad?", Fili sputtered, though he already suspected whom Kili was talking about and his insides cramped up at the mere thought of it.

"Thorin! There is something seriously wrong with him!"

 

\---

 

Whatever he had expected, it wasn't that.

He entered the throne room expecting to find his uncle in the midst of another attack of dragon-sickness and was faced with a... statue.

It looked like... oh, hammer help, was that what he thought it was?!

He hastily approached the sculpture standing _right next to the Mahal forsaken throne_ and upon closer inspection, yes. It was exactly what he had thought it to be.

Before him stood a life-size, strikingly accurate depiction of their deceased burglar and it's eyes, the beads in his hair and the little acorn in his hands were made out of gem shards and Fili knew instinctively and without any doubt that he was looking at the remains of the Arkenstone.

It had obviously only just been finished, as Bifur was still circling it with his chisel and hammer, chipping away little bits of stone here and there.

Thorin was standing next to it watching the proceedings with folded arms and a sombre expression on his face.

He turned towards his nephews as he heard their approaching steps and Fili winced as his uncle didn't even try to mask the deep pain in his eyes.

He nodded at them as a greeting and went back to watching Bifur perfect his work, without so much as an explanation.

"Uncle, what-? What is this supposed to mean?"

Thorin answered without ever taking his eyes off of Bilbo's replicated face. "Great heroes deserve monuments. Don't you agree?"

"Well, yes, but-"

He stopped when Thorin turned his head and there was no anger but only a deep sadness when he asked in a very low voice: "But?"

"N-nothing." Stammered Fili, turning on his heels and leaving the throne room with wide strides, hearing his brother follow close behind.

There was indeed something very wrong with their uncle.

 

\---

 

The news of Bilbo's memorial had spread rather quickly, considering the company was spread  over the entire Erebor. People had begun to whisper.

Balin wrung his hands while watching his king pretend to study the letters all over his desk.

News from the Blue Mountains, the Grey Mountains and the Iron Hills. Reports from Dain, who was overseeing parts of the construction work in the more damaged areas of the mountain.

"You know it can't stay there."

Thorin's back stiffened, he stopped acting like he was interested in anything the letters could tell him.

He stood up and turned towards Balin, barely concealed, angry confusion on his face.

"You would have him stay unhonoured? You would have people forget him? What he did for the entire dwarven race?"

"That is not what I meant and you know that." Balin was irritated by these accusations, yet that had also been the most life he had seen in Thorin since their... scheme.

He sighed at the petulant frown on his king's face. Thorin _knew_ that crafting a memorial for a hobbit and decorating it with the _Arkenstone_ of all things would do more than raise eyebrows.

Yet honouring Bilbo's memory weighed heavier than any judgement of his kin ever could.

"I am not asking you to destroy it. Just not the throne room. Please."

Thorin's tense shoulders hunched forward and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

His voice was lower, but resolved :"The hall of the kings, then."

 

\---

 

Dale was completely abandoned.

No sign of the people of Laketown or the elven troops that had camped there a few days ago.

He could see tracks in the mud, shoes and hooves, but the falling snow was starting to cover them.

He thought about his body lying in the open and wondered if he would be able to move his limbs when he returned to it or if they would be frozen stiff.

He found himself snorting at the absurdity of the thought. He would have to watch out or he'd surely go insane.

"It's no use", he said to himself, the sound of his own voice reassuring him, "I will have to return to the mountain for help."

He made his way through the increasingly white desolation, feeling none of the cold snow beneath his feet.

There was a guard in front of the great entrance and Bilbo tried tapping his shoulder, hoping he would be able to make himself known, but his hand just went straight through him again, sending a shudder down Bilbo's spine. The guard didn't seem to have noticed a thing.

Bilbo clenched his jaw and walked through the guard, ignoring the resulting unpleasant feeling.

He entered the entrance hall and encountered a surprise.

The hall was full of Laketown refugees.

There were some ancient looking bedrolls on the ground, but every once in a while a family packed up their cots and followed a dwarf  deeper into the mountain.

Thorin had really agreed to grant these people shelter.

Bilbo was so glad their plan had succeeded, he forgot about his predicament for a moment - until he felt Fili walk through him.

The blonde heir was visibly stressed, carrying a pile of papers with runes scribbled on them.  He barked orders at dwarves Bilbo did not recognize. Were those the Iron Hill allies Thorin had talked about when he still planned to go to war with the men and elves? When had they arrived?

He decided to follow Fili. If he wasn't able to draw attention to himself, he would at least like to know everything that was going on in the mountain. Mainly how Thorin had taken the news of his death.

Fili leafed through his documents, cursing under his breath.

"Dwalin! Dain needs more men to restore accommodations. There are old people who can't sleep on the floor for another night! And some of those pillars are still in danger of collapsing after Smaug squeezed himself through. Dain can't dispatch any more workers from the Iron Hills, we need to call on the Orocarni."

Dwalin looked at him and muttered: "It's not me you need to be telling that. Nothing less than a royal plea will get those Ironfists to send help. That's all he's doing for now. sending letters and re-establishing alliances all day long."

Fili took a deep breath. "Where is he?"

"Where do you think?"

The blonde nodded, a grim expression on his face.

Fili took off and Bilbo followed, but the didn't climb the stairs towards where Bilbo knew the royal wing to be.

Instead, after a brisk walk, they arrived at the solid golden floor of the hall of kings.

Fili went into an alcove between two pillars, but Bilbo stayed behind. He suddenly felt not ready to face Thorin yet. Even if the dwarf wouldn't know he was there.

He listened to their hushed voices, resounding on the golden floor. It only took a fairly short time, before Fili returned, a troubled expression on his face.

Bilbo stayed behind the pillar and after a few moments, he again heard the hushed sound of Thorin talking to someone. Was there someone else in that alcove?

Bilbo's curiosity conquered his hesitation and he slowly crept forwards.

"There are so many things to be done now. Just now Fili asked me to write to another dwarven clan and ask them to send a delegation to help with the rebuilding of our kingdom. I knew being a king entailed a lot of paper work, but reclaiming a mountain from a dragon multiplies it.", Thorin fell silent, but the other person didn't answer. "Sometimes I ache for your presence so much, it physically hurts. I believe you would be a great help in diplomatic matters. I _know_ you'd be much better at talking than I am." He chuckled, but his laugh turned into something dangerously close to a sob. "I got a letter from my sister and she asked about you. My nephews apparently told her about you in one of their letters they sent on the road. They seem like pebble-heads most of the time, but they are more perceptive than you might think. They told her about you... and me. And now I had to tell her that... I- I had to tell her..." Thorin's voice broke and with it Bilbo's heart. He needed to know what could make Thorin sound like this.

He rushed around the pillar and saw... himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh noes, bilbo saw the embarassing fanwork thorin had bifur do of him D:  
> also bilbs is not dead. big surprise. as if anyone thought me capable of killing him.  
> again, this chapter isn't as long as i would like, but i didn't want to keep you waiting for even longer.  
> that just means even more chapters than i had originally planned....

**Author's Note:**

> phew. OK. I had to get this plot-bunny off my chest.  
> This will be a shorter story than Under the Fire (which I will update soon, I promise...), I'm planning about three chapters or so.  
> Please tell me what you think and make sure to visit my tumblr lostinhellfire.tumblr.com :)


End file.
